


Tomorrow?

by millygal



Series: Stydia's comment fic meme [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Facing up to the events of season four, Gen, Molly's owed an explanation, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 08:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Molly expects Sherlock to avoid her eye, to pretend he didn't declare his love for her, and carry on as if nothing's changed.





	Tomorrow?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Huntress79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/gifts).



> Written for Sandy79's prompt - Sherlock, Sherlock/Molly, tag to the finale of Season 4 - now that have both said it out loud, how do they continue? Is there even a tomorrow for them? 
> 
> Unbeta'd!

Molly expects Sherlock to avoid her eye, to pretend he didn't declare his love for her, and carry on as if nothing's changed.

As always, oblivious to his effect on those who revolve in the gravitational pull that seems to suck every bloody person on the planet into his twisted little world.

What she gets is so much _worse_.

The first time she sees Sherlock after everything with his sister has been wrapped up in a not so neat, blood stained bow, Molly finds herself holding her breath and hoping he'll just move on past her without acknowledging that she grew a backbone for five minutes.

Instead he _looks_ like he’s going to stroll on by, doubles back, stands in front of her for a moment, splutters something about not meaning to hurt her feelings, and walks away at a pace brisk enough to put professional sportsmen to shame.

The second time is even more mortifying. Not because he’s awkward, but because he treats her like a pet; patting her on the shoulder and offering her a wan smile. Like he’s _sorry_ she loves him.

By their third meeting Molly’s lost all of her rags and is willing to kick Sherlock in the shins if only it will push him out of this weird little space he’s residing in whilst within touching distance of her. “STOP!”

Sherlock’s in the process of offering her a flaky thumbs up over helping to identify a rare blood disease in one of his latest victims, and Molly’s voice is so shrill it causes Lestrade and John to duck and cover their ears.

Both men stare at her like she’s grown a second head but Molly clicks her fingers angrily and points towards the door. “Give us the room, please.”

Sherlock tries to follow John out of the lab but is barred by the door being firmly shut in his face and Watson tapping out a quick text. 

Sherlock’s phone beeps and the message is simple and short. “Not you!”

Sherlock peers through the glass panel in the door and the look on John’s face is one of sympathy and amusement as he mouths. “You owe her this.”

The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed by Molly but she’s too busy building up a beautifully lit head of steam to pay the terrible twosome much attention. “Listen.”

Sherlock doesn’t turn and Molly finds herself beyond angry, beyond any kind of angry she’s ever felt. “LISTEN!”

Sherlock’s shoulders curve, as if his greatcoat and collar will protect him from her scrutiny.

No such luck.

Molly storms forward and grabs Sherlock's elbows from behind before spinning him on the spot and pinning him with a look that’s daring him to open his mouth. “Listen, I know you don’t feel what I feel. I also know you do.”

“Could you be a little less contradictory please, Molly?”

“You infuriating - infuriating - MAN!”

Sherlock thinks perhaps this might be the best time to adopt a stoic stance and clasps his hands across his crotch whilst lowering his head.

Molly disagrees. “LOOK AT ME!”

Sherlock’s head comes up so fast he smacks the back of it on the safety glass standing between him and freedom. 

Molly forces herself to slow her breathing and uncurl her fists, then pulls a stool across the room and sits delicately atop it before clicking her fingers in Sherlock’s face. “I _get_ it. John told me all about what happened and _why_ you had to ask that of me, but, I also know that you **do** love me. In your own way. I’m not asking for anything, I’m certainly not expecting anything.”, She lets out a not so ladylike laugh and raises her eyebrows at the man quavering in front of her. “To be perfectly honest, Sherlock, the idea of being in an actual relationship with you scares the living daylights out of me.”

Sherlock thinks perhaps he should be offended but the rising redness in Molly’s cheeks stops him from voicing that opinion.

“But - listen, I’ve lived with these feelings for a very long time, I do not need you to be _soft_ around me. The worst thing you could do at this point is change how you act around me. I _know_ how pathetic I am. I - I - I don’t need you reminding me by trying to spare me. Understand?”

Sherlock doesn’t say anything for so long that Molly fears she may have struck him dumb, or embarrassed him enough that he no longer knows _how_ to talk to her.

Finally, after a full ninety seconds of absolutely nothing but the commingled breathing of two beings trapped together in a room full of too many words and not enough meaning, Sherlock steps away from the door and cups Molly’s cheek. “Molly Hooper, you are anything but pathetic. I know who I am. I know who you are. I hope it’s enough that I also know what your affection does to my personality. Without you, I would be hopeless.”

Sherlock drops a small chaste kiss on the end of Molly’s nose before turning towards the door and raising his hands in an unspoken question.

Molly reaches up and touches the tip of her nose and smiles, then clicks her fingers and nods, even though Sherlock can’t possibly see her. “Go.”

As Sherlock sweeps through the now open door, Molly thinks there may well be a tomorrow for the pair of them, it just might take a few more days to get to that tomorrow.


End file.
